Pretend
by Yay Ninja Bob
Summary: CH7 UP. FEMSLASH. WendyBebe. Wendy's POV. Not only does Wendy have the worsening mental state of her friend Kyle to worry about, but at the same time she must face the ongoing mystery of her heart. PLEASE REVIEW.
1. Little Billy's Map

**Pretend**

_A fanfic from the slightly disturbed mind of the Californian who hates California._

**

* * *

A/N: I was at first a little hesitant to write this story. However, I was pleased to receive much encouragement from my wonderful friends. And then of course after discovering that there is a MASSIVE absence of Wendy/Bebe fanfics-- or any Femslash for that matter-- in the South Park fandom, I felt a greater urge to write this. So like my goal is to write this first ever long, chaptered Wendy/Bebe fic, and hopefully do a good job with it. I only hope that my readers, who may be bothered with girlxgirl love, will keep an open mind. If not, please keep any "Ewww, icky lesbians!" comments to yourself.

* * *

Chapter 1: **

**Little Billy's Map**

"The world would be a lot better place if there were no cheerleaders."

I glanced at Kyle and laughed. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah. Really."

"And why don't you explain this… _theory_ to me?"

"It's simple." I watched Kyle sit up a little straighter from where we both sat on the cold, cement ground. He lifted his head from where it rested on the brick wall behind us, while folding his hands in a serious manner. "You see, a cheerleaders' soul purpose in life is a completely useless one; and is also consequently a plague to the civil liberties of the few remaining honorable peoples of society."

"Uh huh. And what's this _soul purpose_, Mr. Kyle Steven Broflovski, undisputed genius, Sir?"

"It is, quite simply, to fuck jocks."

"Oh? I thought it was to-- I dunno-- _cheer_."

"That's what they make it look like. After all, how else would they receive school sponsorship? Our school is pretty messed, but they still wouldn't pour money into a 'Fucking Organization.'"

"I see."

"No, they fuck the jocks. Why? Well, to keep them happy of course. Why keep the jocks happy?"

"…Oh. Am I suppose to answer that?"

"You can at least try."

"Why try when you have all the answers?"

He grinned at me.

"To win games?"

"Uh huh."

"Can't they encourage the jocks all the same with just cheering? Is fucking really required?"

"Well, you tell me, Wendy. Would you rather observe boobies bouncing up and down from the opposite end of a football field? Or would you rather them be in your face without the restraint of a polyester uniform top? Which would make _you _happier?"

"I see your point. Continue."

"Thank you. And why do they need to win games? _Because_. Because those lump headed retards have no other ticket into college. _As a result_, they take the spots that rightfully belong to _us_. The true hope for the future. _As a result of that_, we have idiots running the world, instead of deserving individuals. _And as a result of that_, we are all completely doomed."

"Okay. Kyle?"

"Yes?"

"You _totally_ just made that up _right now_."

"No, I--"

"No, no, no. Kyle, you said something completely random, and then--"

"Does it, or does it not make sense?"

"Kyle, you're such a--"

"_It makes sense, doesn't it?_"

"It makes absolute _no sense. At all._ And your wasting my precious lunch period with drivel ramblings."

He rolled his eyes and relaxed his head on the brick wall again. "It makes perfect sense."

"It makes no sense."

"Perfect sense."

"Yes, of course. _I'm sorry_. Excuse me, Mr. All Knowing _God_."

"Damn right."

The bell rang. "Write an essay on the subject." I stood up and slung my backpack over my shoulder, "Then send it to _Time Magazine_. When they publish it, I'll reconsider your oh so carefully calculated philosophy."

"I _will_." He threw on his own backpack, and tossed his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it with a forceful stomp, as if illustrating his determination.

"Alright. Good. Tell you what. I'll help you out and pay for postage."

Kyle and I were always like that. Don't get me wrong. I loved the guy. There were times when he got really annoying though. He was so full of himself. He failed to notice that I was his only and friend, and that he was my only friend. I guess reality isn't all that clear when you're like Kyle, who lived in fantasyland at least a good ninety percent of the time.

I couldn't help but feel sorry for the big, greasy redhead. He'd been through a lot. His friends abandoned him at a pretty horrible part of his life. He never told me exactly why the other boys ditched him, but I felt like it had something to do with some pretty terrible rumors that ran rapid through the school.

He was only nine. I never could fully determine how stupid people had to be to believe that a nine-year-old would be responsible for the murder of his little brother. What really happened was that Kyle's mom asked him to start the toddler's bubble bath. He did. The kid played in the tub as it was being filled with water. Kyle got distracted, as any nine-year-old easily is, and when he came back, the tub was full, and his brother was gone.

It wasn't his fault. He didn't mean it. But most of the kids at school acted like he was some monster, including his own best buddies. Personally, I think that manipulative Eric Cartman was at fault for most of it.

The second day I saw him eating lunch by himself, I asked him if he wanted to join me and my friends. I remember him looking so nervous and almost ashamed for eating lunch with a bunch of giggling little girls. Despite a lot of talk, the girls loved having Kyle there. I think the only real reason they were so cool with Kyle was because, well, he was a guy. I think the poor dude went through more torture with us, than what he would have experienced through loneliness.

"Hey, Kyle? Do you think Marcy's cute?"

The boy would blush and shrug his shoulders.

"How about Bertha? Do you think Bertha's cute?"

Again his cheeks turned another shade of pink and he'd shrug his shoulders. "I-I dunno."

Poor guy. I tried to help him out by changing the subject of conversation whenever it turned to something like "Kyle, if someone dared you to, would you kiss Annie?" Some things, like attacking the boy with make-up and hair bows, were beyond my control. Truth be told, I somewhat enjoyed watching one of the girls forcing him into a pair of her mom's heels and a frilly little skirt. And even though he was always saying "No, come on, girls. This is stupid," I think he liked it too.

Games grow old I guess. I still have no clue of what exactly happened. I guess it was just middle school. Middle school happened. Suddenly, it was only me and Kyle. You know what happened? I think it was the other girls… they thought they were women all of a sudden. I guess me and my training bra had no place with them.

At first I didn't care. I liked being with Kyle and only Kyle. He was really smart. Finally, I was without those giggling little childish games, and I could have decent, intellectual conversations with someone. I know. Pathetic, isn't it?

Kyle and I were brought up just about the same way, with strict schedules, after school tutoring, healthy balanced diets, extra homework assigned not by the teacher, but by Dad, and the only cable TV in the house: _CNN_,_ the History Channel_,_ the Discovery Channel_,_ National Geographic_, _MSNBC_, _FOX News_, _the Biography Channel_, and all that wonderful crap. Really, Kyle and I had no prayer or chance of becoming anything but super big geeks.

The one thing that _did _bug me, was Bebe. I knew she wasn't like the other girls, and that's what bugged me. I knew her. She was my best friend. I knew her more than anybody else. She was so insecure though. She had no faith. So when the other girls took off, and she sensed what kinda misfit she'd turn out to be if she didn't go with them, she left. The way she could easily say goodbye to everything we shared was what bugged me. And it has yet to stop.

I always asked myself: Why her? Why is it _Bebe_ that haunts my every thought? Five years later, and you'd think I'd get over it. But no. I'm just more upset over the whole thing more than ever. It's like this cursed disease that just gets worse and worse with every passing day. I wish somebody could explain this to me. Bebe was gone. She was frolicking around with the in-crowd now, and who was I? That girl that scores the top score on every test and essay, which the teacher announces each and every time, yet you still don't remember that name? I wondered when the teacher said "Wendy Testaburger" if there was any slight tinge in your brain, in the depths of your memory, of who that was once to you; or did it just fly past your head, blocked out by thoughts of what you're going to wear to the next school dance?

I really hated that whole image thing. The popular scene and the, well, _not_ popular scene. Maybe it was because I got no benefit from it. It wasn't as if you were popular, you'd get love, and admiration, and a cute wardrobe; and if you were non-popular, you'd get… respect? At least respect. But that wasn't the way things worked. Not popular? You got shit. Sorry. Game over. Why don't you go ask your mom for some more quarters, and play again?

I wasn't the game playing type though. Didn't win the popular game? Oh well. I was too lazy to give it another shot. I didn't care anyway. Well, sometimes I cared. But when I did, nobody knew it but me. Besides, I liked acting like I didn't care. Made me look a lot stronger. I was an independent, strong, and slightly liberal minded future triumphant lesbian politician and genius, and the world better look out for Wendy Testaburger. And it will be absolute certainty, that that name will never be forgotten again.

* * *

My parents weren't very involved with anything more than my grades. They thought Kyle was my boyfriend and every so often, my mom asked how Bebe was doing, completely unaware that the two of us hadn't been best friends since the sixth grade. I never told my mom what happened. It just seemed like too much work. And when you let the lie run for one, two, three, four years… what was the point? And the whole Kyle thing. Well, I couldn't come out about that. Kyle would kill me. I'm sure, being the serial killer expert and buff he was, he'd know the perfect way to do it too, and make it look like an accident or suicide or something too. 

Kyle was the most flaming queer _ever_, as long as his parents weren't anywhere around. No, he'd be going on a endless rant about how he would have _loved_ and openly _offered _to be Jeffery Dahmer's sex slave for eternity if he were around at the time, and then his mom or dad would pass through the room, and he'd shut up and plant a fake kiss on my cheek and give an innocent smile to whichever parent it was. I guess I shouldn't be talking though. I mean, it wasn't like I was being honest either.

My mom informed me that she and Dad were going to have me a birthday dinner. Not party. _Dinner_. At least it was a way to round up my aunts and uncles and grandparents to one spot, where I can collect envelopes of cash. My seventeenth birthday was about two weeks away. I was still waiting for that car my dad promised me last year.

"Do you want to invite any friends?" she asked me.

"Sure. Kyle will come." I tried to make it evident in my tone of voice that I wanted the conversation to end, because she obviously failed to notice that I was in the middle of reading an English assignment.

"Of course _he'll_ come. What about your friends?"

"Nah, they can't come."

"Why not?"

"I dunno. I'll ask, alright?"

"Wendy, I have to know how many people I will be cooking for that night."

"Okay." I sighed frustrated and closed my English book. I started to count on my fingers. "There's Grandma and Grandpa. Then there's Aunt May. Uncle Joe and Aunt Terese. There's Aunt Kelly and Uncle Thomas. Grandma Jill. Kyle. That's… nine. Plus me, you and Dad."

"What about Bebe?"

"_Mom_… alright. No. Bebe and I aren't talking right now, okay? She won't come."

"What's wrong? Did you two get into a fight?"

"Yeah, a fight."

"Oh _no…_." Like she _cared_.

I opened my English anthology and started to read again.

"What was the fight about? Something trivial, I bet. You, teenage girls."

I sighed again. "Mom. I'm trying to do my homework right now. Okay? I gotta meet up with Kyle tonight, so I want to finish this."

"Is that what the fight was about?"

"What?"

"Kyle. Is Bebe jealous of him?"

"Mom. Bebe _has _a boyfriend. Stan. She would never be jealous of _Kyle_. Please. I just want to do my homework. Cook for twelve."

At last, she shut up and left me alone.

* * *

When we were sophomores in high school, Kyle came barging into my room this one early morning-- and when I say early, I mean _early_. It had to be about three or four in the morning. He was so excited, I thought he was going to piss his pants. He couldn't even piece together comprehensible words. It was just happy rambling. Craziness. I thought: _This is it. He's finally snapped and completely lost it._

He preceded by dragging me out, into the cold night, to Stark's Pond. He kept dragging me, still smiling and giggling with delight, like some little kid freaking out about meeting Barney the Dinosaur or a Teletubbie, and we continued on deep into the woods.

For a long time, I thought he was just leading me to our deaths. He was getting us lost. We'd never find our way out. And we'd starve and freeze to death. Thanks, Kyle.

But we finally got there. Kyle stopped and we stood in front of a tall tree. He was looking up with the biggest grin on his face. I looked up. It was dark, and I couldn't see anything. It was nearly morning, and so it wasn't pitch black, but still very dark.

Kyle looked at me and then looked up again. "Who do you think it belonged to?"

"What belonged to who? Kyle, I don't see shit."

"Yeah, sorry. I tried to get to your house before the sun was down, but I kinda got lost."

"You were out here when the sun was up? Kyle, that had to be like ten hours ago! You better not have us lost in the middle of nowhere--"

"Relax, I marked the trees. I know where we are. …I think." He brushed past me, to the trunk of the tree.

I watched him. When I strained my eyes enough, I saw that there were wooden steps nailed to the trunk of the tree. The first was a good three feet off the ground, and Kyle struggled to pull himself up onto that first step of the ladder. I followed him. We climbed up thirty-three steps and we were suddenly in this large tree house.

"Who do you think it belonged to?" Kyle asked again when we were inside.

I looked around the wooden box. There were cobwebbed toys and action figures everywhere. There was a little table and on it was a bunch of comic books. "Some kid obviously."

Kyle grinned as he walked around the room. "Little Billy."

* * *

Kyle and I used that tree house as sort of an escape from everyone. As far as we knew, nobody else was aware of it. First, we agreed to keep all of Little Billy's possessions there, agreeing that it gave the place a little character-- it kept the spooky and mysterious mood that we like about it. But a year later, now, Kyle and I realized that those comics and action figures might sum up to quite a bit of cash. _Cha-ching_. 

So we agreed to meet that late afternoon to clean up Pogo's Crawlspace, as Kyle had named it because of the thirty-three steps, alluding to the mass murderer's thirty-three victims; he even went so far as to make a sign in woodshop with "Pogo's Crawlspace" written in macabre carnival like letters and a clown so happy it was scary, dancing on the side, which we nailed just above the entrance of the tree house. Call us juvenile and such, but both Kyle and I loved that place.

As we threw all of Little Billy's things into a cardboard box, which we'd later take to sell at this comic book store, we found more than we had thought was there. Underneath boxes and tables, that we never moved before, were more comics and even little crayon drawings. I studied a picture, that Little Billy was without a doubt responsible for, and tried to determine the kid's age. It was a drawing of Superman. It seemed too skilled for a smaller kid. I guessed that Little Billy was probably ten. Eight, nine, ten, or possibly eleven.

I suddenly heard a joyful shriek from Kyle. He held a paper in his hands. Like the other drawings, the white texture was starting to turn brown. "What is it?" I walked over to him.

It was a map. At first it was hard to tell because Kyle's hands were simply shaking too much with insanely happy giddiness. But it was a map and done in crayon like all the pictures. There was something that looked like a tree, and then a trail that had "50" written underneath it. The trail led to something I couldn't recognize. It just looked like a big square. There was another trail that had "160" written underneath it, and it lead to I guess a bush, and there was a squiggle beside it. Then another trail with "20" underneath it and a big red "X" was it's destination.

I heard Kyle squeal.

I rolled my eyes, "Can we finish this up and leave?"

"But! Look at this! _Look at this!_ Oh my God, Wendy! _Look!_"

"I see it!"

He bounced up and down in place. "We have to find it!"

"What?"

"Whatever the hell that X is! We have to find it!"

"Kyle you're insane."

"_I'm not insane. I'm just queer_."

"Stop quoting one of your gay murder lovers and help me pack up the rest of this stuff."

Kyle rolled his eyes. He folded the map and stuck it carefully in his back pocket. "We're going to find it."

"Fine. Not today."

"I know." He picked up a stack of comics and dropped them in the box. "But we _will_."


	2. An Afternoon Visit

**Pretend**

_A fanfic from the slightly disturbed mind of the Californian who hates California._

**

* * *

****A/N: OMG. I'm SO sorry for the HUGE delay on this chapter. I PROMISE it will never take this long again for an update. Well… I suppose some things are out of my hands, as was mostly the case this time, but I swear I won't do it on purpose. My excuse would be… uhh, the week after completing the first chapter, I took a week off to write the epilogue for OtOaA. The next week was my birthday, so I was busy with that. And then after my birthday I got carpal tunnel and that effed up everything! But now that I'm healed and stuff, we can finally get on with it! Sorry again! **

**And um, I dedicate this chapter to my real life friend Candyce! 'Cause she totally kicked ass at the school's talent show the other night and also her birthday is coming up… so happy early birthday to Candyce and congratulations on the awesome performance.

* * *

**

**Chapter 2: **

**An Afternoon Visit**

I think one of Kyle's most favorite things in the world was to prove others wrong. He just loved it. He loved being right, and he loved it when you were wrong. Everyday he'd have some sort of epiphany and a rambling theory was formed. He'd get passionate about it and deliberately tried to get you to disagree with whatever the hell it was, just so that there was an argument. I could just see those green eyes of his light up when the teacher announced our group assignment in English class. It was a research project--one of those _PowerPoint _presentation things. It had to be on a topical issue where we'd have to try and persuade our classmates to believe what we believe.

Great. We got to attempt brainwashing for actual credit. I could see Kyle fidget anxiously in his seat in the corner of my eye as I copied down the guidelines to the project while our teacher wrote them on the board.

"Alright," Mr. Barrett said moving from the board towards his desk, "Groups of three. No more. No less."

Kyle and I exchanged glances. He leaned over in his seat and dragged my desk towards his. "Who else do we have in our group?" I asked.

He paused, touching his finger to his chin in thought. "Casper?"

"Shut up. Mr. Barrett isn't going to agree to a god damn cartoon ghost in our group, Kyle."

He just smiled.

I looked around the room. There had to be some loner shyly still seating at his or her seat somewhere, too afraid to get up and join a group.

"Tweek!" Kyle shouted so suddenly, I jumped.

And the scrawny blonde haired kid did too with a yelp. His eyes widened when Kyle motioned for him to come over. He looked absolutely frozen. That poor, paranoid boy. I tried to send him a kind smile, "Come on, Tweek. You wanna be in our group?"

"_Me?_" His eyes widened more, if possible. He let out a scream and then let his head fall onto his desk with a loud _thump!_

"I swear, this kid's on something," Kyle muttered to me. "No, not you, Tweek," Kyle sarcastically answered, "Your evil clone behind you."

In one swift move, Tweek lifted his head with another scream, turned in his desk so forcefully to look behind him, that the thing tilted, tottered for just a second, unevenly balanced on one side, and then came crashing down to the floor. He scrambled quickly to his feet, twirling round and round, frantically searching for his evil clone.

I sighed and shook my head at Kyle, "Look what you did now. You're gonna give him a heart attack and then who the hell is our third person after that?"

"Sorry," Kyle said behind a satisfied grin. "Tweek. Hey, Tweek! _Tweek!_ Calm down, Man. There's no evil clone! I was just fucking with you!"

"_What? You were?_" he ceased his search.

"Yeah. Calm down. Come here and sit down with us so we can figure this project crap out."

"_You want me in your group?_"

"Yeah, Tweek. Sure."

The boy stared for a while. He was completely still for about two seconds before he jumped and started to shake his head vigorously, so much that it made me dizzy to watch. "No! That's just way too much pressure! _Do you realize what you're getting yourself into by choosing me as your partner? _You're gonna fail! _Don't you see that this is a persuasive presentation?_ See with me! Nobody believes me! You're gonna fail! And it'll be my fault! _Ahhh! **Way too much pressure!**_"

"Don't be ridiculous, Tweek," I said pulling a chair towards Kyle and I. "Come here and join us already."

"Oh man! You guys seriously don't get it! _Ahhhh! _I'll be the death of your grades! _The death! _Oh Jesus! Nobody believes me _ever! Don't you guys know that? _Even my own mother didn't believe me when I told her that she ran over my cat, Whiskers, with the car! He was still stuck under the wheel of the car but she said it was a rabbit! _Ahh! _But Whiskers hasn't come home and a rabbit's ears are way longer than that! _Way longer!_ And the tail! _Ahhh! Isn't the tail supposed to be short and fluffy or something? _I told her this and then she told me that I never even had a cat! _Ahhh! _But I don't blame her! Look at me, guys! I've got problems! I like to keep them to myself and try and not to screw up anyone else's life! I can't be in your group!"

"Sit your ass down, Tweek," Kyle said shoving the desk in his direction.

Tweek opened his mouth and I prepared my ears for another scream, but there wasn't one. He closed his mouth, biting his lip tightly, as if forcing himself with all his strength to keep quiet. He shook his head quickly, "Gah! You guys are gonna be sorry! Don't say I didn't warn you!" He sat down in the seat, quickly gripping the edges of the desk, as if holding on for dear life.

Kyle and I spent a long time throwing ideas back and forth between each other. Tweek basically just watched, letting out an occasional yelp here and there.

"Something political? Like the war or something?" I suggested.

"Nah. Everyone and their mother is gonna do that."

"Umm…. How about--"

"What do you think, Tweek?" Kyle interrupted, facing the blonde.

"_What? Me?_"

"Yeah. You."

"Uhhh… _a topic?_ Oh Jesus!"

"Just something we can argue about, Tweek," I tried to help.

"Eh… Global Warming?"

"Nah, that's too boring." Kyle relaxed in his seat, slouching backwards. "Try again, Tweeky."

"Again? Oh Jesus! Err… something that's not boring…. Santa Claus?"

"Yeah, I don't think we're gonna be able to convince a bunch of high schoolers that Santa Claus exists, Tweek," I said. "Everyone's pretty much learned that Mommy and Daddy are the culprits."

"_Ahhh! _Wait! _He isn't real after all? _Oh Jesus, I knew they were lying! _Gah!_"

"Try again, Tweeky," Kyle said with half a yawn.

"Umm…. Oh man, this is way too much pressure! Umm… aliens?"

"Illegal aliens or like UFO green people?" I questioned.

"_Ahhhh! _Illegal ones! Not the other kind! That's just too freaky to think about!"

"Nah," Kyle said sitting up in his seat, "I like the other kind. The space kind. Visitors. Let's do that."

I laughed, "Screw you."

Tweek let out another scream. "**_No! Not visitors! Way too scary!_**"

"No, come on. I've got a few hypotheses up my sleeve on the subject."

"Oh yeah?" I still laughed. It seemed ridiculous.

"Yeah," Kyle said with a smirk.

Tweek screamed.

Kyle smiled at him, "Dude, calm down. There's nothing to be worried about. There ain't no such thing as a visitor."

"_Ahhhh! _How can you be so sure?"

"Wow," I said.

"What?" Kyle questioned.

I shrugged. "I just expected you to take the other side to the issue."

Kyle gave a short laugh. "Like I'm some psychotic, paranoid 'Oooooh the aliens are going to abduct us for straaaaange experiments, so that they can take over the planet' type person."

"_Ahhhh! They are!_"

"Tweek, Tweek. Even if there was such a species, advanced enough to reach our planet, you really think that in order to study us humans, they have to physically abduct us and then probe us in the ass?"

Tweek yelped and nearly caused his desk to fall over. "But they're here! They're already here, Man! And they're abducting someone right now at this very moment! _Ahhhh!_"

"How'd they get here?"

"Spaceships that travel at like galactic speeds we could never imagine!"

Kyle laughed. "_Please_. And defy Einstein's special theory of relativity that has been proven to be true by thousands and thousands and _thousands_ of experiments conducted over the course of over a hundred years?" He sat up straight and I slouched in my own chair, knowing full well that he was going to go on a rambling speech then. "The faster someone travels, the shorter the distance. Also the faster they move, the more massive they become. You know like the sci-fi movies where everything gets all warped when they kick up the gears of the space craft. Warp drive or whatever. Only that isn't fucking possible 'cause if it were possible for somebody to travel at the speed of light, he would experience three things, Tweeky." Kyle leaned forward towards Tweek, who had surprisingly stopped jittering with anxiety to tentatively listen to Kyle. "One, time would slow to nothing," he continued counting the fact on a finger. "Two, the person traveling at that rate would shrink to nothing. And three, the traveler's mass would be infinite! It's science, Tweeky. Can't argue with that! The only way around that Star Trek shit is for some sort of alteration of space-time and not to mention the massive amount of energy they'd have to use to power such a craft! Like all the energy of the fucking sun! It's science, dammit. Am I right, Wendy?"

I shrugged, "Seems plausible I guess."

"Of course it is," the redhead leaned back in his chair.

Tweek seemed to reflect over this for a while. There was about seven seconds of stillness from the guy, before he jumped and started to shake again. "Gah! Okay! But! What about wormholes? They're like teleports to our universe that any visitor could use! Oh Jesus!"

Kyle sighed. "Tweek, Tweek. Wormholes are just speculation, Dude. Right Wendy?"

I nodded, "Yeah I know that."

"They are not disallowed by the universe, but neither are they proven to exist. And if they did, they would be rare. And if they did, the chance of a wormhole linking two separate worlds which both contain intelligible life is even more rare."

Tweek was still for a few moments and then he erupted again. "_Ahhhh! _But that means it's still possible!"

"But rare."

"But possible! Oh Jesus, they're here!"

"Like I said, Tweek, even if they were here, there aren't any abductions going on. Any race as advanced at that would never have the need to physically extract genetic material. Not to mention that that would imply that the human race is _speeeeecial_. And _come on_. Anyone who believes in life on other planets cannot _seriously _think that way."

Tweek blinked at Kyle. "Eh…" he fidgeted in his seat looking nervously from Kyle to behind him, to me, to Kyle, to the ceiling, to the teacher, to me, and then to Kyle again. He took a deep, shaky breath. "Maybe you're right… Gah! I'm just crazy! I'm being insanely paranoid! Oh Jesus, it's only a matter of time before they lock me up for good!"

Kyle laughed a little and then smiled at the boy. "Nothing wrong with being paranoid, Tweek. As a famed genius once said: _Total paranoia is total awareness_."

"Who was that?" Tweek questioned, seeming calm for once. "Einstein again?"

"Nah," Kyle answered. "Charles Manson."

Tweek screamed. "Oh man! Oh man, that's not good! He was a psychotic killer! A psycho! Oh Jesus! I'm gonna turn out like him!"

Kyle raised an eyebrow and a grin slowly swept his face, "Maybe, Tweeky." He relaxed his head on his hands folded behind his head. "But who said there's anything wrong with that?"

* * *

I guess if Kyle could convince someone as paranoid and scared as Tweek to believe the opposite of what he previously thought, he could convince our English class. So we decided to do the project on visitors.

I got home from school and decided to go and research the topic a little more. I was on the computer, upstairs in my room, for maybe fifteen minutes when the doorbell rang. I was usually the only person home at that time and my mom would show up whenever she finished grocery shopping or running errands. Sometimes it was an hour after I was home, and sometimes it was two minutes.

I went to answer the door, expecting it to be Kyle. I dunno why I did, because the guy was usually not shy about just letting himself in, but maybe I mistakenly locked the door or something. Also, he had mentioned during lunch at school that he wanted us to try and crack that map together soon.

But I answered the door and it wasn't Kyle. It was Bebe, who I hadn't spoken to for years. It was a real shock to see her, suddenly just randomly on my door step. "Hey…" I said.

She didn't seem too happy to be there. She rested her hands on her hips, "Hey is right. Tell me, Wendy. Why is it that I get home today from school and my mom starts to talk about how much of terrible friend I am? How I'm such a stupid girl for getting into a fight with my best friend and refuse to go to her birthday party?"

"What? What are you talking about?"

She threw up her hands, "That's exactly what I said!" She crossed her arms in front of her, "Apparently my mother got a call from yours, pleading for her to persuade me to make up with you. That sometime this week we had a fight over your _boyfriend?_" She stared at me, as if waiting for me to say or do something.

"What?" I said.

"Wendy. What the fuck? We haven't talked since like… ever! So why did your mother make it sound like we're friends, when we aren't?"

I knew my mom would fuck me over like this someday. I sighed, "Dude, sorry. Just… ignore it. My mom doesn't know crap about me. She still thinks we're friends. I just never told her about how you and the other girls abandoned me way back--"

"_Abandoned you?_" she sounded so insulted.

"Yeah. Abandoned. Anyway, I don't care. Just go home and forget it. I'm invisible to my mom, just like I'm invisible to you and the rest of your prissy little posse."

"_Prissy?_"

"Yeah, Princess. Prissy." Did she have a hearing problem or what? "Anyways, point being, I had no want to have to explain the fact that the two of us hadn't been friends for four years when she asked me to invite you to my birthday dinner yesterday, so I lied and told her that the two of us had recently gotten into a fight."

"Okay," she returned her hands to her hips. One of her blonde curls had fallen in front of her face and she blew it away with a quick breath. I dunno why, but it made me smile. "First of all, lying is _wrong_. _Especially to your mother_. Secondly, I am _not _prissy. Okay, maybe the crowd I hang out with is different than the crowd you hang out with, but that doesn't mean that--"

"Crap."

"What?"

I spotted my mom's car pulling into the driveway. I didn't need to be psychic to guess what was coming.

"Oh! Bebe! What a pleasant visit!" my mom immediately exclaimed when she spotted the girl. "Why don't you come inside? Wendy, where's your manners?"

Typical.

I sighed and opened the door for Bebe to come inside, followed by my mom with a bag of groceries. Bebe and I stood there for a while, doing absolutely nothing. I was expecting for her to say something like "Oh look at the time! I should get going!" and then skip merrily away and maybe we'd run into each other in another four or five years.

"I'm going up to my room," I announced after a while. "Are you coming?"

And surprisingly, she answered: "Sure."


	3. Walking in Circles

**Pretend**

_A fanfic from the slightly disturbed mind of the Californian who hates California._

**Chapter 3: **

**Walking in Circles**

She curiously explored my room, poking around assorted things on my desk and dressers, and just kept stopping to stare at random things with a confused look, as if she had never seen anything like what was in her hands before even though it was something as common as a hair band, or pair of sunglasses, or a crumpled up piece of paper. My brain kept revisiting this one memory while I was watching Bebe. The look she'd get on her face reminded me of intermediate school. It reminded me of the first time I sat down at the lunch table with the other girls and they all had this look on they're face. They never even told me anything, at least not anything that would justify the look at all. What I could have done, or have said, or what others may have said about me. There was never an explanation-- only that look.

I wonder what kind of look had swept my own face, because Bebe glanced at me and then quickly retracted her hand from where she was reaching for a small jewelry box on my desk. "I'm sorry."

"Nah, it's okay."

"No, I should've asked before snooping around all your stuff."

"It's okay, really."

I sat there, staring back at her for a long time, as she stared back at me. I balanced my chair on its back legs, rocking it back and forth and waiting for her to say or do something. I realized that maybe I was being rude by just sitting there. "You wanna sit down or something?"

She glanced around the room and then pulled my computer chair, and sat down in it. She sat down in one swift, graceful move. The chair seemed to glide over to her so smoothly, and then she sat down in it with equal elegance. If a ballerina performed with swivel chairs, that's what the choreography would look like. She neatly folded her hands on her lap and I sort of laughed to myself at the pose.

"What?" she questioned.

"We're not at school, Bebe." I let my chair fall back to its leveled spot. "I mean, it's not like we're waiting for Mr. Garrison to excuse out to recess or something."

She tilted her head slightly and wrinkled her brow in confusion.

I scooted my chair closer to her and it made loud, screeching and scrapping noise against my wood floor. I reached for her neatly folded hands and yanked them from their polite pose. She started to laugh after I guess she finally figured out what I meant. She was still a little slow on things. Just like she was years and years ago.

I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair after scooting away from her again.

She did the same, and smiled at me.

I laughed. I slouched in my chair, so much that it must've looked ridiculous.

She did the same and she grinned.

"There you go."

"Is this good?"

"It's perfect. Good job."

I was checking her out then. I was always terrible at hiding my traveling eyes, maybe because I usually didn't notice when I was doing it, until it was too obvious and too late. She clearly noticed it. She sat up in her chair and squirmed a bit uneasily.

I sat up too and tried to stop myself from blushing. It was impossible. "You don't have to stay here just 'cause of my mom and everything. You can leave."

"No, it's okay." She was pretending like I hadn't just stared at her D-cup breasts for at least five seconds long, but I _knew _she saw it. If my curtains were pulled back, the whole neighborhood would have seen it. "It's nice to talk to you again."

I raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

She nodded. "We used to be best friends."

"Oh, you remember that?"

"It wasn't _that_ long ago, Wendy."

I didn't say anything. I didn't feel like getting into any drama. If we were such best friends, then why had she ignored me for the last several years?

"So, when's your birthday party?"

"It's a birthday _dinner_."

"Oh."

"Yeah, it's a party minus anything that would make it slightly fun."

"Oh. Well, when's your birthday… _dinner_?"

"Next Saturday."

"Oh."

"…Am I invited?"

"Do you want to be?"

"Sure."

"Then sure."

I wasn't sure why she'd want to come, especially after she caught me staring at her like that. I wonder if she knew just what Wendy had developed into after she was kicked out of the group. Then again… what did _she_ become after that?

She had a boyfriend though. Stan. Everyone knew that. But what was _that _relationship like? What if it was just a staged thing, like Kyle and I were to our parents? That had to be unlikely, even though Stan seemed a bit feminine in my eyes. Nah, Wendy. This is just you're stupid lesbian mind creating excuses to check out the hot blonde in front of you and somehow formulate an innocent fantasy in your brain, that wouldn't seem entirely pitiful 'cause you now have reason to believe that's she's _totally _gay and _totally_ into you.

"So stupid."

"What?"

"Oh. Nothing. I didn't mean to say anything. I just… sometimes think out loud and I don't mean it."

"Oh," she said with a half laugh. "Yeah, I remember you doing that when we were younger too."

My cell phone rang on my desk. I got up and answered it, after checking the caller ID and seeing that it was Kyle. Who else calls me? "What is it?"

"Meet me at Pogo's."

"Why?"

"Just come! Oh. Wait. Do you by any chance have a compass?"

"No."

"Dammit. Don't like cereal boxes have like those as prizes or something?"

"I dunno."

"Dammit. We need to buy cereal. Remind me about that sometime."

"Yeah. Okay."

"Alright! Get your ass over here!"

"Well, since you put it so nicely…"

"Just get over here." I heard a screech in the background. "Christ, Tweek. Calm down. You're not gonna fall out of the fucking tree already."

"Tweek's over there?"

"Yeah, Tweek's over here."

"What's he doing there?"

"What's Tweek doing here? Well, duh. I'm gonna rape him." There was an even louder shriek from Tweek in the background. "Tweeky, I was _joking_. He's just here to help."

"Help with what?"

"With figuring out this map! _What the hell do you think?_"

I forgot about that thing. "Do I have to come? I'm kinda busy."

"With what?"

"I have company."

"Who?"

"Bebe."

"…Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, what is _she_ doing there? Are you gonna rape her?"

"No. I'm not going to _rape _her, dammit." I only realized that I had sad that out loud when I saw Bebe's eyebrows raise and her eyes widen.

"Just bring her with you. She can help too. And then afterwards, we can all take turns raping one another." There was a scream again and Kyle again yelled for Tweek to calm down.

"She wouldn't want to come."

"Oh? Did you ask her about it?"

"No."

"So then how do you know?"

I sighed. I glanced at Bebe. "Do you wanna visit our tree house for a while?"

"…Tree house?" Bebe looked confused.

"Yeah. Kyle and I have like… a tree house in the middle of the woods, just beyond Stark's Pond. It's stupid and you don't have to come but Kyle is retarded and convinced that--"

"No. That sounds interesting. I'll go."

"Really?"

"Sure," she said with a shrug.

"You do realize that Kyle will be there and that he's a total freak, right?"

"_Hey! I heard that!_" Kyle's voice screamed through the phone.

Bebe laughed. "That's okay."

"Okay." I placed the phone back to my ear. "We'll be there."

* * *

"You didn't have to come, you know," I said as we made our ways through the woods. 

"I know."

"We're almost there." She looked increasingly worried that I was lost or something. I couldn't blame her. Everything must've looked like nothing but an endless scene of trees, but I knew where I was going.

We finally reached Pogo's Crawlspace. She followed me to the trunk of the tree. "You wanna go first so that… I can catch you if you fall or whatever? I dunno if you're afraid of heights or something…."

She stared at the tree with wide eyes. "I didn't realize it would be this high up…."

"You okay?"

"Yeah." She nodded and then proceeded to carefully place one foot on the first step of the thirty-three step ladder. She seemed to have trouble hoisting herself up, and so I helped by placing my hands on her waist and pushing her up. She glanced at me for a brief second and then continued to pull herself up the ladder.

I cautiously followed behind her. When we reached the opening to the clubhouse, Kyle was there to give a helping hand. "About time."

I stood up and brushed myself off, "We left as soon as we got off the phone."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "'Kay you can help Tweek come up with decoding."

"What're _you _doing?"

"_I'm_ using my telescope to search through the woods for objects that resemble those on the map."

"Does the telescope see through trees?"

"There are some cleared areas out there."

I rolled my eyes as the redhead turned back to his telescope that poked out of the single window the house had. I looked to Bebe who was looking around the small room. I decided to not bother her for the moment and let her curiously explore the place. I went to join Tweek at one corner of the room, where he was blinking dumbly at Little Billy's map.

I sat down beside him. "Hey."

He glanced at me. "Oh Jesus, I'm bad at this!"

"What exactly are you doing?"

"Kyle told me to write down things that these weird markings could mean."

"Lemme see what you have."

The shaking boy handed me the paper he was scribbling on previously when we had first entered the tree house. His writing was difficult to read. It was shaky and scrawny, just like him. I read what I could. "The square could mean… a TV?"

"TV sets are square!"

"Why would there be a television set in the middle of the woods?"

"Gah! _How should I know?_"

"What else do you have?" I picked up the paper again and continued to read. "It could be… a square rock?"

"It could be!"

I smiled at him. "Right. It could be. I'm not doubting that, Tweek." I looked to my right side and noticed that Bebe had sat down beside me. I handed her the list and the map. "Got any ideas?"

"This looks like it was drawn by a kid," she said.

I nodded. "Little Billy."

"Who is that?"

I shrugged. "We dunno. It's just what we call the kid."

She studied the map for a while and then shrugged. She handed the things back to me, and I handed them back to Tweek. "How did you find this place?" Bebe asked as her eyes traveled up to the ceiling, as she began to inspect the room again.

"I didn't. Kyle found it."

"How? Why would someone go this deep in the woods in the first place?"

I glanced at Kyle. He had his back turned towards us three as he peered through the telescope. "I'll tell you later," I said quietly to Bebe. Kyle was always sensitive about certain things. He hadn't told me how he found Pogo's Crawlspace for nearly half a year, until he was in one of those weird moods he got every now and then. He'd get… serious. And the way he found Pogo's Crawlspace, was a very serious matter; one that I wasn't quite sure I should share and gossip about with anyone else.

She seemed to understand and slowly nodded.

But Kyle had heard it. After several moments of silence he randomly answered the question: "I was trying to get myself lost." He said it so plainly, without taking his eye from where it looked through the lens of the telescope. He sighed and pushed the thing away from his face and stood up straight, stretching a little. "I can't see shit. It's no use. Let's just go home." He looked to Tweek, "Come on, Tweeky. You first."

Tweek had stopped shaking for the last few moments to stare at Kyle in wonder. At the mention of him climbing down the ladder, he jumped and scrambled to his feet.

"Remember," Kyle said. "Just close your eyes and don't look down."

Tweek nodded quickly and took a large, deep breath before preceding to the doorway. I wondered how long it had taken Kyle to persuade the paranoid boy to climb the tree in the first place.

* * *

Over the previous summer, Kyle and I spent a lot of nights in Pogo's Crawlspace. We spent an entire weekend, living up there, and joking about how we were basically training ourselves to be insanely liberal environmentalists. 

One night, he was acting very strange. He was quiet and wouldn't answer me back when I talked to him. I'd laugh and joke, expecting him to do the same, but he didn't. He got like that sometimes. It usually didn't last that long. As soon as I'd start to worry, he'd change into his insane, giddy self again. But that time was different. After lunch, he just slipped into that weird state and it lasted for a long time.

I remember that it was raining. Kyle didn't like the rain. He didn't like the water. He was deathly afraid of drowning. It was the only thing he'd admit to having control over him. I didn't know if it was somehow psychologically tied to his brother or something, but I did know that he had trouble sleeping on rainy nights-- like he was afraid he'd drown in his sleep or something. So that night, he refused to sleep. He refused to talk. He was almost scaring me.

I was almost asleep when he finally, randomly began to talk: "Have you ever watched an ant?"

It was enough to wake me up again. He talked. He finally talked for the first time since that afternoon. "What?"

"I was watching this ant when I was sitting on the front porch of my house." He kept his eyes on the floor in front of him, and I strained my eyes to look at the spot, expecting to see an ant. There was nothing. "It was all by itself. And it was just walking… walking round and round… just walking in a circle. And I wondered if it knew what it was doing. If it knew that it was going… nowhere. It was going in circles. Did it even realize that it was lost? Was it lost? Or maybe it _did _know. It knew that it was going nowhere. It _knew_."

He was quiet for a long time. He pulled his legs to his chest and placed his chin on his knees. "And I thought… _Wow. What an intelligent creature. It knows._" He paused for a moment, "It knew that it was lost. Everyone's lost and everyone's going in circles. And we're so stupid to think that we're going anywhere-- that there's some sort of destination. We're all just here. And going nowhere.

But this bug… this ant. It had it all figured out. It knew that even if it was walking in circles then, it was just a smaller circle it would have to endure rather than this pointless circle that we walk which we call _life_." He spat that last word in a disgusted way.

He was quiet again. I didn't really understand why he was telling me this. And why then? I was really worried. I didn't know if I should suggest that we get him back home or what…. I just stayed quiet.

"I killed it," he muttered. "I didn't want it to be lost anymore. And… _I _didn't want to be lost anymore…. So I just--I just kept walking. Just like that ant was doing. And I thought that maybe… someone would save me. Save me from being lost." He laughed a little, "And then I found this place. And… this place… I dunno." He glanced at me and then returned his gaze to outside the doorway of the tree house, where we could see the silhouettes of tree tops in the woods, lit by the stars in the sky, whose shine was further magnified by the night's light showers.

"This place…" he continued. "It makes me forget that I'm lost."


	4. Falling in Love

**Pretend**

_A fanfic from the slightly disturbed mind of the Californian who hates California.

* * *

_

**A/N: I dedicate this chapter to my smexy wife, Danny. JUST BECAUSE. X3

* * *

**

**Chapter 4: **

**Falling in Love**

As we left Pogo's Crawlspace that afternoon, Kyle started to childishly complain that he was starving. I knew from experience that the guy expected me to recommend that we should grab some fast food somewhere. We'd then go, eat to his content, and because it was _my_ idea that we eat out, it was _I_ who was obligated to pay for everything. I guess I didn't mind all that much. My parents gave me a pretty good amount of allowance every week, and I wasn't the materialistic teenage girl who was addicted to shopping or anything, so it all just tended to accumulate on its own. I had to get rid of it somehow. Also, there is no other sound more excruciatingly painful than a whining and complaining Kyle.

Kyle's act of pretending to faint from weakness and extreme hunger seemed to worry Tweek to an extreme extent. It was kind of sad to think about how naïve that poor boy was. Usually Kyle wouldn't be as dramatic, but when he saw Tweek's reaction to him "fainting," a satisfied grin swept his face for a brief moment, before he carried on with the act with an even larger performance.

As we made our way through the trees, Kyle would every so often stop, gently place a weak hand to his forehead and say softly: "Oh no… Tweeky…" Tweek, who kept close behind him would move closer to him and "catch" him with a terrified yelp just before Kyle would "faint." He'd stay in Tweek's arms to "compose" himself for a few moments while Tweek panicked and asked repeatedly if he was alright.

"Yes… I… I think so…" he'd say and dizzily rise to his feet again. "Oh God, I'm _so _hungry."

I could see that Bebe was trying very hard not to laugh at all this. She bit her lip and looked down at her feet, while her cheeks puffed and turned a little red. I laughed briefly to myself, but mostly due to that ridiculous politeness she put on, rather than Kyle's act. She didn't notice my quiet giggling, because she was focused so hard on her traveling feet. I gave her a nudge on the shoulder and she glanced at me. I smiled and nodded at her, signaling that it was alright for her to laugh, and rolling my eyes at the fainting redhead.

She tried to hide a large grin behind her hand. She then forced herself to stop, and wore a serious "I'm not going to laugh" look, before hiding her face in her hands and shaking from laughter. I started to laugh again, but this time even harder, so much that I nearly tripped over myself as we walked.

Tweek glanced behind us with a confused look before returning his pathetically concerned stare on Kyle.

"Is Kyle always like this?" Bebe giggled.

"Oh yeah. He's the biggest drama queen I know."

She hid her laughter behind her hand.

"Kyle!" I called ahead.

He stopped walking and turned to face me. "I feel like pizza," he answered without even giving the time to ask the question.

"Alright, Kyle," I rolled my eyes.

He grinned, turned and continued walking again.

I shook my head and laughed a little. Bebe laughed too, "Oh my God…"

"Yeah. That's Kyle."

We were quiet for a while. I watched a squirrel scurry up the trunk of a tree about six feet ahead of us. It disappeared from sight, but I could hear it in the leaves of the tree overhead, jumping from one branch to another. I looked beside me at Bebe. She had her eyes on the ground again. She was smiling, and I wondered if it was still due to Kyle's behavior or if she was thinking of something, recalling a memory, or maybe reflecting over how pathetic Kyle and I seemed to be.

I only noticed how cold my cheeks felt then, against the breeze. They must have been rosy and pink from the chill. Bebe's were. I pulled on my beanie a little tighter, tucking a strand of hair inside it.

Bebe's eyes came up and rested on Tweek and Kyle ahead of us for a moment. She glanced at me and I expected her to say something but she didn't. I was going to ask her if she was cold, but we both paused to watch Kyle "faint" again and make a remark to Tweek who held him that he "wasn't sure if he could make it to the pizza place on time."

Bebe looked at me again. "Are Kyle and Tweek… umm… you know…" she whispered to me, her cheeks flushed a little, and it wasn't from the wind.

"Are they dating?"

She nodded with a shy smile.

I shrugged. "He's just our English partner as of this morning for this little project we were assigned." I paused for a moment to tuck another hair in my hat, "I don't even think poor Tweek realizes what a flirt Kyle is being with him right now." I laughed a little, "I'm not too sure that the kid even realizes that Kyle is gay yet."

"Oh…." She was quiet for a while. "Well he's certainly changed a lot from that cute and quiet boy I remember," she smiled.

"Nah, he's still quiet most of the time. But when he's got a comfortable surrounding, like without any adults, he gets well--" we watched Kyle "faint" again. "…Like that."

"Oh."

A few more moments of awkward silence. Don't you hate it when you can never think of anything to say?

"So do you wanna come along for pizza then?" I asked her.

"Sure."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I?"

"I dunno. You don't have like a nail appointment or something right now?"

She rolled her eyes. "_No. I don't have a nail appointment_."

"Ah. Alright."

She was quiet for a while. "…That's next Wednesday."

I laughed.

She smiled.

"You're funny."

She shrugged her shoulders before tucking a bit of hair behind her ear and returning her hands to the front pocket of her red sweater. We were quiet again; keeping our eyes on Kyle's little performance up ahead. I think we used it as an excuse not to talk to one another. How pathetic is that? Or probably what was even more pathetic was the fact that I acknowledged such a possibility and kept right on ignoring the silence.

"Jesus, Kyle. Why the hell don't you just ask him to carry you all the way there already?" I called ahead.

He looked over his shoulder at me and raised his eyebrows in a playful fashion. He turned around and walked backwards for a few moments. He rolled his eyes and then gave me a devious smirk. He pointed at me and quickly jerked his head in Bebe's direction. He then made a gesture with his hands, extending them from his chest, and pulling them back, and out again, illustrating a beating heart. He then made a kissy face at me before turning back around.

What an asshole. Sure I really liked Bebe then, but he didn't have to fuck with me like that and get me to start blushing like a freak in front of the girl. I avoided looking at her. I wondered if she saw all that, and if she did, if she could read Kyle's sign language, and if she could, if she thought what he was saying was true.

I should probably mention that I fall in love easily. I had more crushes than I could ever count. I was pretty hopeless when it came to a pretty girl. No. It wasn't even that. All that really had to happen was for me to look at someone, and then she just had look at me. If she smiled and I smiled at her, and there was a moment where our eyes met, I was head over heels in love. It didn't matter if I knew her or had never seen her before in my life. I could be in line for something, washing my hands in some public bathroom, just sitting in the car in traffic, or at some restaurant. It didn't matter if it seemed remotely practical either. She could have been latching onto some guy's arm, or be boarding a bus to Denver, or be obviously too old for me. A friendly smile and something that I thought to be a "connection" was all it took.

I didn't know why I was like that. I mean, how could I be so stupid like that, and _know_ how stupid I was being, but _still_ be that stupid? I couldn't help myself I guess. I suppose when your only human interaction is really with a lunatic guy like Kyle, you get ridiculous like that, as well as horribly susceptible to Cupid's arrows. Yeah, I'm defiantly his favorite and dependent target. When the hell is that guy gonna do me a favor and shoot the opposite person in the ass for me though?

Well actually, I guess he did at one point. I hate to admit it, because even though I fell in love just as easily with her, as I had done with any other passing girl, it just wasn't enough to hold my attention for very long. I hate looking back at memories of me going on endless rants to Kyle about how I was so in love, and then looking at how I felt about her in a matter of days. No. I think I was in love with my ex-girlfriend for… four days. Maybe an hour or two more than that. She, on the other hand, never seemed to let go.

But she was a psycho and I liked to pretend like she never existed. It made me feel safe and sane. I liked to go on acting as if her name was in fact forever erased from my memory. It wasn't. But as long as I went on refusing to name that name, I could act like it had been.

That's how pathetic people like me deal with things, I guess. We just like to pretend that everything's rainbows and sunshine. Everything's always alright. Just fine.

Thank God for the gift of imagination.

So, no. Bebe was not special. Just another girl who happened to send me a smile. Of course, as I walked beside her then, blushing like an idiot, my brain didn't have the sense to comprehend that.

I was _in love_.

Why the hell didn't Kyle put me out of my misery right then and smash my head in with a large rock or something right on the spot?

* * *

When we finally reached civilization and were all sitting down waiting for our pizza, I had finally worked up the courage to actually look at Bebe again. She was sitting beside me with her elbows rested on the table. One hand supported her head, and the other she brushed through her hair. Her eyes were out the window of the place, but she was smiling and occasionally giggling as Kyle told some retarded joke.

"You seem to have gotten your strength back, Kyle." I leaned back against the cushion of the booth's seat and smiled at him, "And the food isn't even here yet."

He didn't answer me. He turned to face Tweek, who was contently sipping a cup of coffee. The place didn't have coffee and when the guy found out he nearly went into shock. Kyle walked him over to the place next door to get him some though and when the two returned, I was surprised to see how a simple drink could relax someone so much. He was smiling and drinking and still. He looked… normal.

"Hey Tweeky, thanks for all your help earlier, by the way." Kyle tilted his head and looked at the boy with a smile, "You're really strong."

Tweek didn't answer. He just kept on drinking his coffee, giving a slight nod behind the Styrofoam cup. His attention wasn't on anything in particular, and his eyes just happened to fall on the napkin dispenser in front of him. His lips parted from the lid for a moment for him to let out a soft "_Ahhh_" before continuing to contently sip on his warm beverage.

I could see that Kyle was a bit annoyed from the lack of attention he was getting from the raggedy blonde then. I almost thought that he might start another dramatic fainting scene to win it back again, but he just turned his attention to me.

I grinned and put my hands to my chest, bringing them back and forth, like a beating heart, and imitated the kissy face he had made earlier. He quickly looked away from me and tried to force a scowl on his face, but he was blushing too much and I could tell he wanted to smile.

I glanced over at Bebe again who was smiling at Kyle. I didn't really mean for her to see that. Kyle saw her and his cheeks turned even redder. He cleared his throat. "When the hell is this pizza gonna get here already?"

"I think it should be here soon," said Bebe. "It's been about fifteen minutes."

Kyle crossed his arms and slouched down in his seat, pouting like a child. My eyes fell on Bebe again. She looked at me and I looked away. "Maybe I should go and ask them to hurry it up."

"Just be patient," she said.

We all seemed to sit up and listen all at once when we heard the ringing of the entrance bell go off. "I thought I saw you through the window from across the street."

"Stan?" Bebe sat up even more.

Great. Stan.

"Hi there, Stan," Kyle muttered, but Stan hadn't quite reached the table in enough time to hear the sarcastic comment. Kyle was one to hold a pretty thick grudge on things. He didn't really forgive any of the guys for the way they treated him back in the fourth grade.

I stood up and let Stan sit next to Bebe. After all, it was his girlfriend. I took my new seat beside Kyle. "What're you doing here?" he asked.

Bebe shrugged, "Just getting some pizza." She glanced at me, "…With Wendy."

He looked at me, and looked a bit confused, as if trying to register the name "Wendy" with my face. "Oh," he said as I guess it finally occurred to him that at one point in time, _yes, _we knew each other. "Hey, Wendy."

"Hey, Stan."

"…How you doing?" he asked scratching at his head with one hand. He had his other arm already draped on Bebe's shoulders.

"Alright. How are you, Stan?"

"I'm good," he nodded. His eyes seemed to fall on Kyle and suddenly widen with amazement. What was so shocking, I don't know. Was it merely the fact that Kyle was still alive, or was it some sort of unexpected change in the guy's appearance? I couldn't tell. "…Hey, Kyle."

"Oh." Kyle acted as if he hadn't noticed him, "Hello. …Stan? Wow, it's _Stan_. Whaddya know? _Stan_."

Stan stared at him for a while, with another confused look. He turned to Bebe and said something quietly that I couldn't catch.

Bebe shook her head and frowned at him. "No, I want pizza."

He scratched his chin, "…'Kay." He cleared his throat.

"If you have stuff to do, Stanley, then you can go off and do it yourself. What do you need me for?" I don't know why, but Bebe calling Stan "Stanley" greatly amused me. It sounded like she was lecturing a child or something.

Stan frowned and turned his eyes over his shoulder for a moment and then looked at Bebe again. "Alright…." He looked nervous. He smiled weakly at me, "I guess I'll go then."

"You can join us if you want," I offered, though I didn't really mean it. I heard Kyle make some sort of remark under his breath.

"No. It's alright. I was on my way to the library. …Bye, Bebe."

We all watched him leave.

* * *

I didn't realize how weird that day was until later that night. One minute, I haven't talked to Bebe in years and we're arguing, the next I'm checking her out, and before I know it, she's coming to my birthday dinner in a week and we had pizza together and…

I walked her home that night. It was late and well I wanted to make sure she'd get home safely.

That and I sincerely didn't want the day to end.

I really liked her. I was so hopeless. I don't even know why I did. She was gorgeous. There was something about her smile and laugh too. I don't know why I dreaded the end of that day at that point, but I thought for sure things would never be like that again.

The next day Bebe Stevens and Wendy Testaburger would go on pretending like nothing had happened that day. There would never be any mention of this friendly reunion. I could just sense it as I left her house that night.

And you know, I was right.


	5. Crayon Squiggle

**Pretend**

_A fanfic from the slightly disturbed mind of the Californian who hates California._

**Chapter 5: **

**Crayon Squiggle  
**

I've always found it extremely strange how out of place I felt without Kyle at my side as a fellow outsider. The next day at school, he was no where to be found. He wasn't like someone to miss school. His parents, like mine, were on his ass constantly when it came to school. I've witnessed the poor guy being forced to go to school with absolutely no voice left, a sore, runny nose as red as his hair and a temperature through the roof.

It had to be either life threatening, or the guy outsmarted his parents somehow and was able to ditch for the day. But then why would he ditch? I'd think he'd at least inform me of such a plan.

Earlier I had crossed paths with Bebe in the halls on the way to my first class of the day, and I was stupid enough to wave at her, only to get nothing in return. She completely ignored me, pretending to be interested in something Stan was blabbing on about, at her side.

_Please_. What could _he _be discussing that was _so _mesmerizing, that you couldn't spare me so much as a glance?

So I was abandoned for the day. Well… not entirely. Tweek was still tagging after me. However his concern was mostly over whether or not I thought Kyle was dead, and come lunch time when I sat down for an afternoon cigarette break, he was too afraid of secondhand smoke and lung cancer that he kept himself at least ten or more feet away from me.

During lunch, I also decided to try and give Kyle a call. But his cell phone went straight to his voicemail, and so the mystery of his whereabouts continued.

"Well?" Tweek called from where he nervously sat.

"No answer."

"Oh Jesus!"

"I'm sure he's fine, Tweek."

He remained quiet.

I sighed and turned my attention to some unfinished math homework I had. "So when did you ditch the psychotic redhead for this spazzing blonde?" I looked up and saw Henrietta standing just beside me. She invited herself to sit down.

"Hey, Henri."

"Hey yourself." She plucked the cigarette from my mouth and placed it in her own. She had a habit of doing that. I watched a puff of smoke escape her painted black lips, "Where's Kyle today?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"Hmm."

I tried to act as if my attention was on my homework, but it really wasn't. I was counting the seconds before she'd get up and leave me the hell alone, rather than working on my algebra. Henrietta was always a frequently unwelcome guest at lunch time. I guess at one point, long ago, I enjoyed her company. But that was a long time ago.

That day, she was wearing a simple black dress, trimmed with black lace. It was low cut, as all her outfits tended to be so that she could show off that black butterfly she had tattooed on her left breast. Her shoes were the usual, tall black boots, with those out of place pink striped laces-- the only color found on her entire outfit, unless you counted her blue-black hair, or the assorted dried up pieces of gum that decorated the soles of her boots.

"_When roses cease to bloom, dear, And violets are done; When bumble-bees in solemn flight, Have passed beyond the sun, The hand that paused to gather; Upon this summer's day; Will idle lie, in Auburn,— Then take my flower, pray!_"

"Who was that?" I asked, not looking up from my textbook, and turning a page.

"Emily Dickinson." She paused, "What do you think is this obsession with bees and her?"

"I dunno."

"She mentions bees in just about every poem of hers."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Must be symbolic or something."

"It's probably symbolic for pain."

"Maybe."

After a few more minutes of complete silence on my part, and a poem or two recited by her, the gothic princess returned my cigarette to me, bid me farewell, and left back to her own group of dark and gloomy friends around the corner of the building.

I felt kind of bad when she left. I wasn't particularly nice, and usually Kyle was there to keep me in line. Oh well, it wasn't as if my behavior ever kept her from coming back before.

I decided to pack up and get to my next class early. After discarding my cigarette, Tweek got up and came to my side. "Maybe you should try calling Kyle again."

"I told you, Tweek. I'm sure he's perfectly fine."

"But you said yourself that you have no idea where he is! Gah! He could be _dead!_"

"I'm sure he isn't."

We started walking down the busy halls, and Tweek had to raise his voice a lot more to be heard over the crowded chaos, but he still did so more than necessary. "He nearly died of hunger yesterday! _What if he died?_ Oh Jesus! What if--" the paranoid boy stopped when he ran face first into the massive and gigantically tall, brick wall, that was Eric Cartman. He yelped a deafening squeak, "**_Oh Jesus, Sorry!_**"

The giant gave him a nasty scowl, "Watch where the hell you're going, Freak, " and he pressed on, knocking Tweek to the floor. I shouted angrily at the inconsiderate asshole, calling him just that, and he stopped in his tracks to turn and face me.

I wish I had kept my mouth shut, for a split second. But I then knew that I could deal with Eric, as I have had to do before. I helped Tweek off the floor. He trembled and hid behind me.

But he didn't say anything. He just gave me the finger and kept on walking.

"Ignore him, Tweek," I said brushing the guy off. "So as long as you hang around Kyle and me, he's gonna hate your guts, and give you nothing but a hard time."

"_Why's that? Jesus Christ! Why can't they just leave us alone! Gah!_"

I sighed, "Because Kyle and I know a little secret of his. And he is forever regretful that he let his guard down so that we discovered it." I picked up a book Tweek had dropped and handed it to him.

"Wh-what's that?"

"He's gay."

"…Oh."

* * *

I didn't think it was appropriate to go into grand detail with the history Kyle and I have had with Eric. Or really… the history Kyle had with Eric. It wasn't my place to talk about something like that. If anyone should share the story with others, it would be Kyle or Eric himself. 

It was about a year ago when Kyle and I had this one chemistry teacher, who for some unknown reason hated us beyond belief. Our only chance of passing the class with a decent grade-- or at least something parentally approved-- was to get extra credit by being after school tutors.

I tutored Clyde Donovan in first year algebra, as well as French. Kyle tutored Eric Cartman in… just about everything. When we were first partnered up, and Kyle was told that he was stuck with Eric, I could see the poor guy's mind snap.

He hated the guy for being of course the reason why he was exiled from his group of friends way back when. I thought for sure I'd see him stab the guy in the eye with a pencil sometime during that first afternoon. But as we packed up to leave the library when the two hour tutoring was over, he announced: "That fat ass is horribly, horribly retarded. As well as horribly, horribly _gay_."

"You think everyone's gay, Kyle."

"Nah. For real this time. He is _gay_."

And I didn't believe him then, but it didn't take long before I was convinced myself. It was kinda hard to deny it when I caught him swapping saliva with Kyle one afternoon.

I never really found out what exactly happened between Kyle and Eric. All I know is that one day Kyle showed up to school with a black eye, and Eric never showed up to tutoring after that. Kyle told me that Eric was in denial, and that was that.

* * *

After school, Tweek and I went to Kyle's house, but nobody was home. We then checked Pogo's and found him. He wasn't up in the actual clubhouse though. We found him laying on his back at the foot of the tree, on the ground. Once we spotted him, Tweek let out a yelp. "**_Oh Jesus! We're too late!_**" At the sound of Tweek's yelp, Kyle immediately sat up. 

"Dude, what the hell are you doing out here?" I asked as Tweek and I made our way to him. "Why weren't you at school?"

Kyle dragged himself up off the ground and wiped at his face with the sleeve of his jacket. He was covered in mud and sweat. "I found a river. I'm pretty sure what this squiggle is on Little Billy's map." He dug out the map from his back pocket and pointed at the crayon squiggle.

"You ditched school to look for something that probably doesn't even exist?" I questioned.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Which is _why _I didn't even bother inviting you."

I plucked a twig from his hair, "Uh huh."

"What the hell time is it anyway?"

"It's I dunno… almost four."

"Christ, I'm hungry." He brushed past me and started walking towards the path which lead to civilization.

Tweek quickly walked beside him. "Kyle, are you okay?"

"Yeah, Tweeky. I'm fine."

There was an uneasy silence. Kyle walked while studying the crayon map in an excessive way. He didn't even seem to blink. Tweek stared at him. He glanced over Kyle's head at me and then looked back at Kyle. He screamed, "**_Gah!_**" and snatched the map from Kyle's hands.

Kyle blinked at him. "What the hell?"

Tweek pulled at his hair, "_This thing is gonna make you sick, Man! Sick in the head!_" He kept the map up in the air, balancing on his toes, so that it was out of Kyle's reach. "_Wendy's right! There's nothing out there to find!_"

Kyle was finally able to snatch the map back from Tweek's grasp. "I _thought _you were different, Tweeky!"

"Maybe there is something!" he snatched the map back, "But what if it's something bad! _Gah! That tree house gives me the creeps! Whatever's out there can't be good, Man!_"

"You're being stupid, Tweek." Kyle grabbed the paper again and shoved it in his pocket. "Besides, Pogo's is _not _creepy. It's my _home_, asshole."

Tweek yelped and pulled at his hair. He bit his lip and I could tell he was trying to hold back another scream.

"Kyle, you need to get home and clean up." I said. "Then we'll go out and eat, alright?"

Kyle nodded, "Yeah, okay." He pulled the map out again, and started to study it once more.

Tweek yelped. He looked at me, frantically. "_Calm down, Tweek_," I whispered so that only he could hear, "Y_ou just don't know Kyle. He gets obsessed with things really easily._"

"_That map's nothing but evil_," he whispered back.

I sighed. "You're being paranoid."

"Damn right he is!" Kyle huffed, without tearing his eyes from the map.

* * *

Tweek and I waited in the living room of Kyle's house as he took a shower. Tweek had his eyes glued to the hallway, where the sound of the running shower echoed through. He was a lot more calm, because Kyle fixed him a cup of coffee. He also apologized for calling him an asshole, and admitted that he was being a little weird. 

But Tweek still seemed edgy then. He wasn't shaking with paranoia anymore, but he still had yet to tear his eyes from that hallway. "Tweek, calm down."

He looked at me. "You know that Kyle came to my house last night, after we left the pizza shack?"

"He did?"

Tweek nodded. His eyes were returned to the hallway again. He swallowed hard. "It was like two in the morning or something. Jesus, I dunno. But I was awake. And he asked me if he wanted to ditch school with him today. He told me he was going back to look for Little Billy's treasure right then. …That means he's been there since like two in the morning. And you saw him. He didn't have any food or drink or…." He paused as we could hear the sounds of the shower stop, and a squeak of a faucet.

"I'm scared for him, Wendy."

I shook my head, "…There's nothing to be scared about. That's just Kyle."

He didn't seem to believe me, and for some reason, I had a hard time convincing myself as well.


	6. The Real Challenge

**Pretend**

_A fanfic from the slightly disturbed mind of the Californian who hates California._

**Chapter 6: **

**The Real Challenge**

I'm so stubborn and selfish, and it does no good to anyone, not even myself. So I should change that about myself. If it doesn't benefit others or myself, then what good is it? The problem is, I'm too stubborn to do that. Yet I'm selfish enough to realize that there's an issue there, preventing me from reaching perfection. God isn't supposed to create people with conflicting characteristics like that. It screws _everything _up.

Another thing about myself is my uncontrollable habit of judging others. Not so much labeling them or anything. Just trying to figure out what their issues might be, like my stubbornness and selfishness. What was their personal flaw that resulted in their own special miseries? I don't know why I always wanted to know such things about people, but I did.

The next day at school, I was abandoned by both Kyle and Tweek. There was no mystery as to where they were of course-- out adventuring through the woods. I could see Kyle with a shovel, digging like a psychotic would try to tunnel his way out of his asylum, and poor Tweek at his side, ranting about the dangers of too much strenuous activity on a hot day.

So without any company for the day, I found myself alone at lunch time. I almost got up and went to hang out with the Goths at one point, but I was distracted by my thoughts. I started thinking about Bebe and what her issues might be. I didn't know why it popped into my head, and managed to hold my attention for the remainder of lunch, but it did.

So I sat there, with my back against the brick wall of the school, staring at nothing in particular, and traveling deeper and deeper into thought with every drag I took of my cigarette. I don't think I should be left alone too much. It isn't healthy to be so lost in thought, that you don't realize that your ten minutes late for class by the time you're finished thinking.

Bebe was the kind of girl who wanted to be her own, individual being. She longed to be independent and she believed that she was the type of person who didn't care what others thought, but she did. She was afraid of being wrong. She was afraid of being the minority and so she was doomed to forever follow what others advised her to be in her best interest.

That's why she bothered to hang out with me. That's the reason why she bothered to pay any attention to me whatsoever, after years of separation. And that was why she ignored me the very next day.

At least, that's what I had concluded by the time I fell back into reality.

* * *

After school, I wasn't sure whether or not I should go out and search for Kyle and Tweek. There was a part of me that was concerned about them, or Kyle in particular. But for the most part, I was just pissed off by the fact that they abandoned me for the day, and therefore didn't care whether or not Kyle had snapped, murdered Tweek, buried his body beside Pogo's and was on the next Greyhound bus to Canada. 

I was walking home when I heard a car honk, and some small white station wagon pulled to the side of road, just ahead of me.

"Hello, Wendy! Good afternoon!"

It took me a long time to recognize her face, "…Oh hi, Mrs. Stevens." I glanced over her shoulder and discovered Bebe in the passenger seat. She smiled so innocently, a part of me wanted to slap her.

"Do you want a ride home?" Bebe asked.

"That's okay," I said.

"You know it's been so long since I've seen you, Wendy," Bebe's mother continued in her bright and cheerful voice that seemed to be the exact same high pitch from when Bebe and I were just kids. "Look how tall you've gotten! Oh an look, you've got your ears pierced! You know, Bebe is _always _bugging me about that. _Mom, why won't you let me pierce my ears?_ I keep telling her that she should wait until she's a little older to get something permanent like that done to her body. Oh but it looks lovely on you! You know, maybe I will let her. I suppose sixteen is old enough and--"

I just kept smiling and nodding my head as Bebe's mother blabbered on without an end. I watched how Bebe seemed to look at me with an apologetic look.

"Um, Mom… don't you think we should get home? You were just saying how you had to go to the market to get some things and that it's going to throw you off schedule as it is…."

Bebe's mom didn't seem to hear her. "So, Wendy, you're birthday's coming up isn't it? Oh yes, I talked to your mother about that. We were both so confused about how our daughters can ruin such friendship over little things. Teenage girls! Oh, but Bebe says that she's going to your party, and I'll make sure that she does."

"Right," I said, "Um, Mrs. Stevens, I kinda should be going--"

"You know, it's been so long since we last had you over for dinner, Wendy. So long, I can't even remember! Oh dear, it's must have been years…. Why don't you get yourself in this car, you girls can study together and then we'll all have a nice dinner? You like lasagna, don't you? I'm so old, I forget things easily, but I think I remember that you like lasagna."

I was amazed at the fact that she could remember that about me. "Uh, yeah, I do."

"Great!" she smiled, "Now, come on."

I realized that not getting into Mrs. Steven's car wasn't an option, and climbed into the backseat. Mrs. Stevens talked throughout the entire ride home. She talked about things she could remember about Bebe and I: birthday parties, elementary school plays, and sleepovers. Some of the things she spoke of, I couldn't even remember myself.

I could see Bebe slump lower and lower in her seat. Through the side mirror, I saw that her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and her eyes were shut tightly, as if she was wishing herself to some other place.

When we reached the Stevens home, Bebe's mom kept on talking, even as the two of us climbed the stairs to her room. I think that woman talks, twenty-four seven, whether or not she has anyone listening to her or not. She was a nice lady, but if I were Mr. Stevens, I think I would have already shot myself. Not to kill. But to cause enough damage so that I were permanently deaf.

"Do you have a lot of homework?" Bebe asked as we reached the end of the hallway. She opened the door to reveal her bedroom, that looked almost exactly the same as when I had last seen it.

Bebe had always been on the sporty side. She liked watching sports, playing sports, and being active and involved. Despite her fragile and delicate appearance, I recalled her to be the one girl who could outrace all the boys on the playground, climb the highest, and leap the farthest. I didn't know much about who she was now, but I _was _aware that she was on the school's softball team.

Her room was still decorated with posters of women league sports, only replaced with more recent players. Her bed was still covered with that pink quilt I remembered her grandma made for her, and that stuffed dog she loved to death named "Polka" still sat amongst all her pillows. And of course, the room was still neat and clean. As always.

"I only have these lyrics to memorize for choir," she said throwing her backpack to the floor and then kneeling down to retrieve a folder.

"I don't have much," I answered. "Just some math."

"That's good," she plopped herself on her bed, lying on her belly, with some papers in hand.

I sat down on the floor, with my legs crossed and opened up my textbook. I alternated between scribbling my math homework, to watching her, every few seconds. I wanted to ask her what the hell she was doing--letting her mom do this, and forcing me to be here. She didn't want me here. Not really. …Or did she?

I finally blurted: "What are you doing?"

She looked up at me, "Memorizing lyrics."

I shook my head, and was about to rephrase the question for her, but she interrupted me.

"It's ridiculous how fast he expects us to memorize all these songs. We need to know six songs by this Friday. And he only gave them to us yesterday." She pulled herself up, so that she sat with her feet dangling off the edge of the bed. "But it's easier today, than it was yesterday. Now that I've heard the melodies more. It's easier when you know the melody--"

"Why'd you ignore me yesterday?"

She stopped and blinked at me for a while. "What?"

"Why'd you ignore me yesterday?" I repeated.

"I did not."

"Yes you did."

"No I didn't. Why would I ignore you?" She lowered the sheets of music she held in front of her, "I didn't even see you yesterday."

"Yeah, because you didn't want to."

"What? What is that supposed to mean, Wendy?"

"I passed right by you, and you pretended not to see me."

"I didn't. If I did, then I would have said 'Hi' or waved. I wouldn't have ignored you, Wendy." She paused for a moment, "Why do you think that I ignored you?"

"Because… you did."

"I did not. I swear I didn't."

I was quiet. I still didn't real believe her.

"I had fun the other day." Her eyes were soft. "Why would I ignore someone who I had so much fun with the previous day?"

"'Cause that's the type of girl you are."

"What?"

"You ignored me, because all of your so called _friends_ ignore me. That's why."

"That's not true. I already said that I didn't ignore you." She sat the music completely off to the side. "Why do you refuse to believe me? Why is it that you have to… I dunno… be like… _this_. You ask me a question, but you already have the answer? What is that? You ask me a question, having an answer you like better, and refuse to hear anything different-- or believe anything different. Why the hell did you bother to ask?"

I blinked at her. I didn't know what to say. I guess, she had a point.

After a long period of silence, she sighed, and picked up her lyrics again.

I returned my attention to my math homework. But I honestly, didn't devote much concentration to it. I thought over what Bebe said. I guess I had her figured out all wrong. And her response really impressed me. She was smarter than she looked. I forgot that about her. And the way she said everything. There was not one bit of anger, or harshness in her voice. Everything was soft, calm and delicate.

"I'm sorry," I forced myself to mutter after a long time. I didn't look at her.

"It's okay," she said.

We were both quiet again. After a while, I could here her humming and singing bits and pieces of lyrics. I didn't realize how I was staring at her, in an almost creepy way, until she caught me.

I immediately returned my eyes to my textbook, but they slowly traveled back up and rested on her. It was truly against my will.

She looked at me again.

"Eh. Hi," I said. Jesus, what a dork.

She giggled. "Hi."

I struggled trying to find something to say, and somehow save myself from complete embarrassment. "I didn't like… know that you were in choir." Lie. I did. I saw her perform at one of those Christmas assemblies the school forced everyone to watch.

"Yeah, this is my second year."

I nodded. "So… do you like it?"

"Yeah. It's a lot of fun. And you get to sing for your grade! It's a great deal."

I nodded for a while. "You… you sing good. I mean-- at least from what I've heard. I didn't hear a whole lot. But um like your humming is good. Yeah." _Why the hell didn't I shut up after "Do you like it?"_

"Thank you," she blushed a little. "I'm not as good as Bertha though. Or Annie. They always get the solos and stuff. Stan is a lot better than me too."

I tried not to laugh at the discovery of Stan being in chorus. This, I honestly didn't know, and was completely bewildered about how I _didn't _know. "Stan's in choir?" I grinned.

"Yeah, he's the best out of all the guys."

"Is that what won you over?"

"His voice? No. I actually… don't like him very much in choir class. He's so conceded when it comes to his singing."

I couldn't help but laugh.

She smiled. A few moments later, it faded though. "I think I'm going to break up with him."

I was caught off guard. "…How come?"

"I'm not sure." She frowned a little more. "I've been wanting to, but every time I work up enough courage, he does something nice for me or something, and I can't do it anymore. It's like he can sense it every time. And that's the only time I truly get something from him. When he knows that I'm going to leave."

"Why do you want to leave him? He seems… nice."

"I dunno…" she sighed. "…Isn't love supposed to be this big, exciting thing? Like you're supposed to wake up every morning, anxious to see your lover-- just hear that person's voice-- and relish every moment with them to the very end… that's what they say anyways. But… I don't feel that with him. At all."

I paused for a moment. "Well, that's a lot to feel," I said. "Wow, I mean. I don't see myself feeling _that _with anybody. That's… a lot."

"But there's somebody right? There's somebody for everybody."

I shook my head, "That's hard to believe. Sometimes I think that there isn't anybody. Not for me, at least."

"Don't be so negative," she said. "Why would you think that anyways?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I dunno." I could hear some car pulling up the driveway outside and Mrs. Steven's voice suddenly filled the air as she greeted whoever it was. "Maybe… maybe I'd feel that way. Maybe that part's easy. …It's just getting the person on the other end to feel the same way. That's the challenge. I mean… maybe you don't feel all that with Stan, but whose to say that he doesn't feel that with you?"

"I don't think he does," she said quietly. Her voice was so sad, but she showed no emotion on her face.

I wanted to ask her why she thought that, but she interrupted before I got the chance.

"Did you feel anything remotely like that with Henrietta?"

"…How did you know about Henrietta and me?"

"I saw you two once."

"…Doing what?"

Her cheeks turned pink. "Nothing. You kissed her on the neck as you left to class or something."

"Oh." I forgot her original question for a moment. "Um, no. I didn't feel that for Henri. Not all of that, no."

"Oh." She paused for a moment. "Did you and Henrietta--"

"I don't like to talk about Henri."

"…I'm sorry."

"That's okay."

She was quiet. "You know, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but sometimes… it's best to talk about things."

"Not this."


	7. There It Is

**Pretend**  
_A fanfic from the slightly disturbed mind of the Californian who hates California.  
_  
**Chapter 7:  
There It Is**

I had dinner with Bebe and her family. It was quite an interesting experience. Not that it was entertaining or special in any way. It was normal. The thing was that it was just strangely familiar. I had dinner with Bebe and her family all the time when the two of us were kids. And it was just like that then. We talked about school--classes we liked and teachers we couldn't stand. We talked about my upcoming birthday. Bebe's mother kept bringing up memories she could recall of Bebe and I as small children.

The thing that was strange was that whenever Mrs. Stevens told a story of our childhood, I just couldn't remember it. I started to wonder if the woman was just making everything up. But Bebe seemed to know and support everything her mother spoke of, adding onto every tale with her own perspective.

For some reason I felt a weird sense of guilt when I couldn't remember what they were speaking of. I felt as if it were my fault some how. Did I push every happy memory of Bebe out of my head? I probably did. I lost them forever. I never felt so lonely and out of place before then, when Bebe and her mother were laughing and chatting like that, and I had no clue what they were talking about. I wished I could laugh and chat with them.

Damn me to Hell.

After dinner, I realized that a polite comment I made earlier of, "Yeah, I miss those too," concerning slumber parties I couldn't remember, was translated in Mrs. Stevens mind as "I'd love to have one of those slumber parties. _Tonight_." Before I knew it, Bebe and I got up from the TV set to answer the door where my mother handed me over a bag of clothes, pajamas and my toothbrush, waved at Mrs. Stevens, and abandoned me there, at the sunshine, happy home of the Stevens.

It was so fast and it was so unexpected, that I literally stood there, still, dumbfounded and staring at the door that was slammed in my face, following my mom's exit, not knowing what the fuck just happened. Not until Bebe asked me when my preferred bedtime was, did I snap out of it enough to at least close my jaw.

* * *

We watched a lot of television. I don't think either of us had any clue as to an alternative means of entertainment. We didn't talk a whole lot. It was really quiet between us, but it wasn't strange at all. I didn't realize how quiet it was until I realized that the three hour long movie we had been watching was ending, and the last conversation exchanged between us was a debate of whether or not we wanted to watch that movie. Three hours of silence? I wondered if she noticed it. It reminded me of this line from an old movie: "Why do we feel it's necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable? That's when you know you've found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence." 

And when that line played inside my head at that moment, I looked at Bebe and she looked at me. And I thought that if there was a movie made about this night, we'd have a line that went something like that.

She smiled, "What do you want to watch now? Or are you sleepy yet?"  
I smiled too much. My brain will still lost in thoughts, revolving around my hopelessly growing strong affection for the blonde. I could only imagine how pathetic and goofy my grin was then.

She giggled nervously, "What's wrong?"

I shook my head and laughed, "Nothing." I pulled a loose thread from my pajama bottoms, "I'm not tired. We can watch another."

I watched her get up from the bed and wander over to the shelf that held a collection of DVDs. Just as she reached to grab one, there was a knock on the door and Mrs. Stevens peered her head in, "It's getting late, girls," she said in that usual chirpy voice, "I think its about time for bed now."

Bebe frowned a little, but nodded her head. She retracted her hand from the shelf and made her way back over to me. On the way, she shut off the lights. When the room filled with darkness, I was immediately filled with panic.

She climbed into bed beside me, and my heart pumped even more furiously. And then she laid down, and I realized that I was expected to lay down too. _Beside her. In bed._

_Oh fuck._

Why hadn't it occurred to me that the two of us might be sharing a bed that night?

And why hadn't it occurred to _her_ that she was sharing a bed with a lesbian like me?

Perhaps… she didn't _care?_

I lifted the fluffy comforter and slid myself underneath its warmth. I saw Bebe's shadow laying there in the dark. I rested my head on the pillow and turned onto my side so that my back was towards her. I closed my eyes and tried to steady my heartbeat.

"Goodnight, Wendy," Bebe yawned.

"Goodnight, Bebe," I replied.

Within a few minutes, I could hear her snoring. I wouldn't classify it as snoring though. Not snores—soft breaths. Soft, gentle and barely audible.

She fell asleep. Just like that, she was in dreamland. I finally started to calm myself down.

…She didn't care. She treated me like any of her other friends. She didn't care. How the hell did I ever think that she—nice and kindhearted, everybody's friend, blonde haired and fair skinned Bebe—cared about something like that?

She was just too nice.

She was just too perfect.

And I was just too hopeless and lost at that point.

* * *

I woke up and realized that I hadn't spoken to Kyle the other day. Not once. I was a bit worried that I hadn't heard from him. He seemed a little… on the edge the other day. I just hoped that he was okay. 

But that wasn't my number one concern then. No, right then, my main concern was the fact that I felt something on my back. Right there, resting between my shoulder blades. I tried not to move, I didn't want her to know that I was awake. I didn't want her to know that I knew that she had her forehead resting on my back. I didn't want her to know that I could feel those soft, gentle breaths ruffling the collar of my nightshirt.

An alarm clock on her nightstand went off. I immediately felt her touch disappear. I waited for the annoying sounds of the alarm clock to stop before I opened my eyes and sat up, pretending that I had just woke up.

I turned my head towards her and I saw that she was blushing. I acted like I didn't notice. "Morning."

"Good morning," she smiled weakly. She threw the covers off and hopped out of bed. "Umm, so do you like cereal for breakfast?" she asked as she straightened out her pillow.

I nodded, "Yeah, cereal's fine." I got out of bed and straightened out my side of the bed.

"_Lucky Charms_?"

"_Lucky Charms_ are fine."

"Or how about _Cheerios_? I think that's all we have…."

"_Cheerios_ are fine too."

"Which do you like best?" she asked as she sat Polka, the stuffed dog, amongst all the pillows.

"I don't care. I'm not much of a breakfast person actually."

"I like _Lucky Charms_ best," she said. "They're not a dull as _Cheerios_."

I just smiled at her.

* * *

Mrs. Stevens dropped us off at school that morning. I sorta regretted that I had spent the night there. I could have ditched school and gone to go check up on Kyle and Tweek. Make sure everything was alright and maybe try and convince Kyle that he should give up the wild goose chase, and join me back on Earth. 

I could just hear Kyle now: _You ditched me? **Me**, your best friend-- the one person who stuck by your side all these years-- for **her**? For that **girl**?_

Well, I guessed he didn't have to know that I was with Bebe. If he did… the actual scene would be a lot more dramatic. It'd be the exact replay of what happened between us when I was with Henrietta. Which wasn't the prettiest sight and the exact reason why Henri usually kept her distance when Kyle was at my side.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that he probably didn't even miss me at all. Not with Tweek there. In fact, the reason why he blew up that one time was because he was pretty much jealous that I was in a relationship and his thing with Cartman didn't work out.

He really did like that big oaf. I'll never guess why. But with the entrance of Tweek, I think he might have gotten over it by then.

I still felt bad though. I cared about the dude. He was my best friend and just about my only friend. It was my responsibility, as his best and only friend, to make certain that he was at least still alive.

So I decided I'd ditch right after lunch and before the next period. I usually didn't get lunch, but decided that I'd better stop at the cafeteria and pick up something I could take to Kyle and Tweek. Who knew when was the last time those guys ate anything.

I forgot how long lunch lines were. It'd have been quicker if I ditched at the beginning of lunch period and stopped at a _Mc Donald's _or something.

"Excuse me. Wendy?"

I looked up. I didn't recognize the girl's face, or that of the other girls who surrounded her and butted in line right in front of me. I blinked at all of them, "Yeah?"

The girl who stood directly in front of me placed her hands on her hips and scowled at me. "So," she said sharply, "Bebe says it was _you _who encouraged her to break up with Stan."

"How dare you!" exclaimed a short, pigtailed girl who stood beside her. The little thing look like she was about to break down crying, "They were the best couple ever!"

"Yeah, don't you care that they were together for _two whole years? _Doesn't that mean _anything _to you?" came a voice but I didn't see the person it belonged to.

I shook my head. "I didn't say anything. She just _told _me that she was thinking about--"

The girl in front of me interrupted me. "Listen," she said sharply again. "I know what kind of girl you are, _Wendy Testaburger_."

She said my name in a way that really hit a nerve. I straightened my posture and scowled back at her. "_And what kind of girl am I?_" I sounded nastier than I intended, but I didn't care. Who did this girl think she was?

"Keep your sick games away from Bebe," she said.

"Yeah, how dare you corrupt her like that!" the crying little one sobbed.

"_Corrupt her?_" I shouted.

The girl in front of me started to take a step towards me, but she suddenly retracted it and a look of panic swept her face. I was at first confused why but then heard an angry voice from behind: "_Will you chicks stop holding up the fucking lunch line?_"

I turned around and looked up at the giant Eric Cartman. He glared at the girls in front of me until they walked away. He looked down at me, "You can move up now."

I moved forward in the line. "Thanks, Eric."

He scowled, "I didn't do it for _you_."

"Well you got rid of them, and that's all that matters, whether or not you intended it to be for me or not… thanks."

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes.

I grabbed a couple calzone pizzas. I didn't bother putting them on a tray; I was just going to shove them in my backpack and leave the campus as soon as I paid.

"Haven't seen the faggot Jew for a while…." I heard Cartman mutter.

I refrained from snapping back with something like _Who are you calling a faggot? _I glanced up at him, "He's out of school. Looking for treasure."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I know. I'm a bit worried that he's completely lost it."

"What kind of treasure?"

I shook my head. "I dunno." I shrugged and moved up the line a little. "He found a map that's probably a fake, but he's completely obsessed over it now."

I paid for the lunches and threw them in my backpack immediately.

"Having a picnic?" Cartman said.

I laughed. "Sorta, yeah. They're for Kyle and Tweek."

"Tweek?"

"Yeah. He's looking for the treasure with Kyle."

"…Ah."

I threw my backpack over my shoulder, "See you later, Eric. I'll tell Kyle you said 'Hey' for you."

"Fuck you, Hippie," he said with angry look, but blushing cheeks.

I just smiled and left the cafeteria.

* * *

I left the main building of the school and started to walk around to the side of the campus where I knew there was a gate I could go through that the teachers and staff didn't regularly guard. It seemed easy and simple enough, but of course there had to be _something _that would get in my way. 

I saw Bebe walking ahead of me. She hung her head and seemed to be stomping off somewhere angrily. I hesitated but called out to her.

She stopped in her tracks and paused before turning around. She smiled a little when she saw me, but it wasn't that genuine happy smile she usually had.

I approached her, "Hey."

"Hi, Wendy," she tugged on her bangs down in front of her face. She was trying to hide it, but I could see that there were tears in her brown eyes.

"…What's the matter?"

She shook her head and didn't answer.

"Does it have to do with… oh, I dunno. You broke up with Stan and… your friends can't believe it…. And… they pretty much think that I've brainwashed you or… something?"

She laughed a little, but it wasn't the laugh I was looking for. "How'd you guess?"

"Oh, I just happened to have a conversation with some friends of yours."

She frowned. "What'd they say to you?"

"Nothing. They just--"

"I hope they didn't make you hate me or anything."

"Of course not, Bebe. I could never hate you."

She smiled and a tear escaped her eye. She wiped it away.

We were silent for a while.

"You know… I never saw this coming," she said quietly after a while.

"Saw what coming?" I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders and wiped at her eyes again. "I dunno," she choked. "Just… befriending you again and… then…" her voice shook. She sighed and looked down at her feet. "I should get going," she said.

"Yeah… me too."

She started to walk past me but stopped just at my side. She turned and faced me and I faced her. "Wendy?"

"Yes?"

She paused for a moment. "Do you think… do you think that there could be one person who can completely change your life? …Change how you act? How you _feel_? …Change the very way you look at things?"

I nodded. "…Sure. …I can see that."

She bit her lip. I could tell she was trying not to cry. I wanted to give her a hug or something, but I didn't know how she'd respond to something like that. I was too scared to try too.

I worked up the courage to take her hand, "Bebe, I'm sorry. …I'm sorry that… you're being treated like this." I didn't know what to say to her. I made it up as I went, and spoke what came to mind. Comforting people wasn't something I was used to. "If you need somebody to talk to… about _anything_… I'll listen."

I obviously didn't know what I was doing because it only resulted in the girl bursting into tears. She threw her arms around me and I jumped a lot at the sudden embrace. She buried her face in my shoulder and wept. "Oh, Wendy… I dunno how to feel…. I've never been so confused before in my life."

"Um… It's okay." I rubbed her back, "You… don't know how to feel about what?"

She seemed to cry even more.

"Please… don't cry, Bebe."

"I'm sorry, I can't help it!"

I felt her squeeze me tighter. "Bebe, please. You shouldn't be crying over… what people say or believe…. It's they're fault that their stupid little lives revolve around you and Stan. It's stupid that they think it's any of their business. …Don't cry over people like that and what they do or say."

She pulled away and looked at me. She nodded and wiped at her eyes.

I smiled weakly, "There you go." I petted her hair, "Now how about a smile? You're so pretty when you smile."

She blushed and giggled.

I smiled, "There it is."

Her smile disappeared. Before I could frown myself and ask her what was wrong, I felt her lips pressed against mine.

"I love you, Wendy."

"…I love you too, Bebe."


End file.
